


Honeymoon

by lisac1965



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Honeymoon, Making Up, Vegeta is a grumpy boi, Wedding Reception
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 12:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21179477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisac1965/pseuds/lisac1965
Summary: Vegeta hates parties. His wedding reception was no exception.Written for TPTH October BVDN. Six prompts, 300 words, 40 minutes each. Theme, Honeymoon.





	Honeymoon

**Honeymoon**

  
  


**Reception:**

Vegata hated crowds. Hated parties. Hated having to wear garments casually referred to as a monkey suit. Yet here he was, subjected to all of it at his own wedding reception.

He was in his seat at the bride and groom table while Bulma and the rest of the wedding party mingled. No surprise. She was the social butterfly while he was the recluse. It was a wonder they even had a relationship to begin with.

Trunks, now four, ran to the table and sat next to his father, trying to get his attention.

“What do you want, boy?” he asked gruffly.

“Go dance with mommy,” Trunks enthused.

“I don’t dance.”

“But, mommy wants you to dance with her.”

Vegeta rolled his eyes. If there was one thing he hated most in the world was making a public spectacle of himself-- unless it was on the battlefield. 

“So, she sent you over here to convince me to dance even after I made it clear I wasn’t going to?” the Saiyan inquired.

“Oh, no,” Trunks clarified. “I just heard her tell Chi-Chi she wished you would dance with her.”

Vegeta was silent for a moment.

“Tell her to come over here,” he requested.

Trunks obeyed without a word and moments later, Bulma sat next to him. 

“So,” he said as he turned to her, “you’re still insisting I dance with you even after agreeing to let you invite everyone here so they can congratulate us on our union, which is supposed to be personal and private. You really expect me to display myself in that fashion?”

“Uh,” Bulma lifted a brow, eyeing him, “yes.” 

  
  


**First Class:**

“We’ve talked about this, woman,” the groom seethed. “I’m a first class warrior. I was born for battle, not entertainment.”

“Look, buddy,” she said, finger on his chest, “I made enough compromises for you. I agreed to a private wedding. I had to finagle a crapload of fake documents for you just so we could get a marriage licence. Do you know how nerve wracking that was, since it’s downright illegal? The very  _ least _ you could do is give me one dance.”

“I’d rather save it for the honeymoon.”

“What’s with you?” She leaned back in her chair. “Why is it such a big deal for you anyway?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He wasn’t wrong.

“It’s tradition.” As if he would care.

“When I offered to kill Yamcha to win your hand  _ you _ didn’t care if it was tradition,” he recalled. “In fact, you said, and I quote, ‘You do that and you’ll never live on this planet again!’”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Earth doesn’t honor Saiyan customs,” she reminded. “Now, I’m going back out there and enjoy my wedding day with our guests instead of sitting here watching you mope.”

“I’m not moping,” he insisted as she left.

She danced another dance with her father, then Krillin, but mostly danced with their son.

At least she wasn’t dancing with Yamcha.

  
  


**Champagne:**

It was more of the same throughout the remainder of the reception. Vegeta stayed in his seat, only to get up when he was ‘forced’ to cut the cake with the bride, followed by champagne and long-winded speeches. Bulma said this was called ‘toasting’ the bride and groom, but at this point he wished he could toast this infernal crowd and use the champagne as an accelerant. 

“Quit being so grumpy,” Bulma ordered as they returned to their seats.

“I will when we get home,” her groom grumbled. 

“For Kami’s sake, can’t you just enjoy yourself for once?”

“I intend to when the party’s over.”

“Everyone’s here to congratulate us on our nuptials and you can’t even show a bit of gratitude?”

“Isn’t that what the reception line was for? I had to suffer through that for over an hour.”

“You didn’t shake one hand.”

“They’re lucky I didn’t rip any of them off!”

Bulma didn’t say anything else. If he was going to act this way, the honeymoon can wait. She’d give him an earful for their wedding night instead. 

  
  


**Hotel Suite:**

Bulma didn’t speak to him the rest of the day, not even after they got home. Once she had a chance to change her clothes she pulled out her phone right in front of him.

“That hotel suite I booked for our honeymoon? Well, I’m canceling,” she informed him.

“What for?” he asked, arms folded and sneering.

“I tried very hard to have a good time today but you were a complete ass the whole time.” She all but threw her phone at him. “What was the deal, anyway? Sure, you didn’t want to dance and standing in a reception line isn’t fun. But you could have at least  _ tried _ to be civil. You really think acting that way was going to turn me on and make me all giddy about being your wife now? On the contrary, I’m wondering if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life!”

“I can’t change who I am, woman,” he declared. “You think making a family here was going to change me? I’m a warrior, or at least I thought I was.” His last words were quiet and uncertain.

Bulma was starting to put the pieces together.

Since Goku’s death, Vegeta didn’t train as hard as he used to. Beating Goku-- no, killing him-- was his goal in life. The drive to surpass his rival was what kept him going.

“You’re right,” she admitted. “I can’t change who you are. But you need to understand I have needs, too. And your behavior today really hurt me.”

  
  


**Couples Massage:**

This time, Vegeta clammed up. Hurting his new bride was never his intention. Pissing her off he could handle. But hurting her was an entirely different thing.

Her eyes shimmered with tears that trickled down her cheeks. When did she start crying? She proceeded to turn her phone on. 

“Wait,” he said as he took it from her. “I didn’t mean to upset you, not like this. I was just uncomfortable. I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have.”

“Damn right you shouldn’t have.” 

Vegeta approached her, wrapping his arms around her waist. “I’m happy you’re mine. Mine and no one else’s. I just didn’t want to have to endure all that crap we had to do just because it’s customary.”

“Yeah, well, just remember I don’t take anyone’s crap, not even yours.”

That was true!

They said nothing more until they reached their bedroom. Bulma’s parents were looking after Trunks for the week so they could enjoy their wedding night and leave for their honeymoon the next day.

Vegeta kissed her once they crossed the threshold, deeply and passionately. But Bulma was still on edge from their fight.

“Here,” Vegeta whispered as he removed her clothing, then his own, and led her to the bed, laying her on her stomach. He pulled out a small bottle of oil, warmed up some between his hands and proceeded to massage her, starting from her neck, her shoulders, working slowly down her back, then her legs. Once she was finally relaxed, she did the same for him, working slowly to relieve the tension that melted away from her at his touch.

  
  


**Sex on the Beach:**

The warmth of her hands, the scent of massage oil and her own natural perfume roused his senses as he pulled her close, taking her mouth with his once again. Now that they were finally alone, he could enjoy his new bride and not have to bother with anyone else.

Committing himself to her for life was an easy choice. She had taken pity on him from the beginning. Had stayed by his side even after almost letting her and their son die during their fight with the androids. Showed him unconditional love and acceptance regardless of what happened. She was his hero. His everything.

He explored her body, caressing her as she sighed with pleasure. He took one dusky nipple in his mouth and sucked. The scent of her arousal drew him down further, stroking her inner thighs as he parted them. Her taste was sweet, her moans like music as he indulged in her womanhood. Her hands gripped his hair, urging him on until she came, shuddering like a leaf in the wind. 

He hovered over her, kissing her fervently, tasting her sweet mouth and her essence. Their lips parted as they gazed at each other.

“You’re such a grumpy bastard,” she teased. “But I prefer having it out with you than anyone else.”

“Fair enough.” He smirked, his kanines flashing. 

Slowly, he entered her. The feeling of her around him always felt like home-- once he actually started to care for her.

Tomorrow, they would make love on the hotel balcony overlooking the ocean, but tonight he reveled in their union as husband and wife.

“I love you,” she cried as she came. Vegeta’s body and moans replied as he reached his own climax before collapsing beside her.

They laid breathless as he pulled her close with one thought in mind. 

She was his.

_ His. _

That thought alone made the reception worth the pain. 


End file.
